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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24341362">High Machiavelli</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/gerhardts/pseuds/gerhardts'>gerhardts</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fargo (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Closeted Character, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, F/F, F/M, Fervent Sexism, Love Triangles, Mentions of Pedophilia, Mildly Dubious Consent, Older Man/Younger Woman, Recreational Drug Use, Secret Relationship, mentions of abuse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:29:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,340</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24341362</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/gerhardts/pseuds/gerhardts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A woman from a child: her father, a sinner. Her mother, dead. Letty Bybel could not have imagined her life any lower. Harrowed by tragedy, she is taken under the wing of an old friend of the family--the Gerhardts--and finds herself an object of desire for young Simone and her father, Dodd. Torn between affairs, both father and daughter expect of their lover to keep their indiscretions under wraps. But she's got her own secrets to guard.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dodd Gerhardt/Original Female Character(s), Simone Gerhardt/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. author's note / prelude</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hi all,</p><p>          I wanted to preface this story by telling you that this is a drastically improved rewrite from a piece I originally attempted while the second season of Fargo was still airing. I was in high school and very new to writing--specifically fanfiction--hence the monstrosity "Daddy Issues" that was posted here on AO3 (since deleted. I do have a copy of the first three chapters if anyone wants to have a good laugh). I figured I could take a similar concept and start from scratch, since my writing has gotten much better since then. So on the off chance that you laid eyes on that abomination four years ago, I deeply apologize and I hope this version of the story can make it up to you.</p><p>          I also wanted to let those of you know who are reading on AO3 that a playlist of the songs included in this story will be updated on my Wattpad parallel to each chapter so you can listen along while you read.</p><p>          Peace. xx sunny</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. i. carrefour</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>[ i . i ]</p><p> </p><p>          The blood had frozen over, forming a little red road leading away from the cabin. The steam was long gone at the trail's abrupt end, whisked away by speeding tire tracks. Dark fingers grazed it gently, a ribbon of crimson ice in the soft snow. The Indian looked towards the road, a white mist befalling the surrounding trees.</p><p>
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</p><p>          Dodd Gerhardt lay groaning on a table. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, reflecting off every steely silver surface in the room. The woman's face was flushed, her slender fingers dancing over blades of stainless behind a layer of blue nitrile. Though likely close enough to see his own reflection in the beads of blood collecting on her gloves, his mind drifted from reality. He chuckled, then mumbled something entirely incomprehensible ending with 'Barbarella', outstretching his hand for the bottle of bourbon sitting next to her tools. </p><p>         She sighed shakily. "What?"</p><p>Panic was evident in her voice as she picked up a pair of scissors and made a steady slice down the middle of his shirt. He hummed contently, taking an unwise sip from the bottle laying on his back and subsequently coughing it up.</p><p>          He winced as she peeled the torn fabric from his chest, congealed blood and tissue gluing it to his wounds.</p><p>          "Sorry," she whispered, taking a closer look at the flesh. Reluctant, she picked up a suturing needle, long and crooked.</p><p>          She was going to probe him.</p><p>          Dodd grew pale at the thought.</p><p>
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</p><p>[ i . ii ]</p><p> </p><p>          She did not look out of the window in curiosity, nor did she take note of the gate drifting open as the guards stepped to either side. Her amber eyes lay somewhere between the dashboard and the paved trail of snow ahead of them, unfixed and distant. Before her eyes, a different image developed from the unremarkable ranch home--one much more perilous. She no longer acknowledged the throb of her heart deep in her stomach, as she had long ago turned the other cheek to it. And so she tried to do the same with the memory, just a picture rolling to the back of her head as she blinked.</p><p>          Snow crunched under the tires as the sedan rolled to a stop. The man in the passenger seat rose and manifested as a shadowy spectre in the evening lilac sky. Her gaze did not follow him long before it fell to the freshly opened back door. A familiar icy breeze met her cheek. She drifted out of the car drowsily and met the driver at the trunk, who then handed her a suitcase for each hand without a word before slinking away and vanishing behind the wheel. The car doors swung shut as she stared ahead at the house, an inviting shade of orange emitting from the windows. She took a step closer, and then another, her white boots disappearing into the blanket of snow covering the vast yard. The echo of a shout from inside made her slow where she stood, but she inhaled sharply and trudged forward nonetheless.</p><p>          The old wooden steps up to the porch creaked under her slight weight. Yet another indiscernible holler from the house and she was at the front door. She leaned down to place the larger of her suitcases at her feet and turned back to the road whence the car had gone, a quiet yearning written on her face along with something else; something so aberrant even she herself could not put a finger on it.</p><p>          This is when it hit her.</p><p>          The girl reached a hand up to nurse the side of her head, mouthing silent curses to herself as another young lady babbled apologies, an unlit cigarette dangling from her teeth.</p><p>          "Shit, I'm so sorry!"</p><p>          She gingerly placed her hands at the poor woman's shoulders in an attempt to insure her well-being. Her head craned in and the two women matched one another's gaze. In the fleeting moment that blue eyes met gold there existed some kind of recognition, not of having met before but of knowing they were to collide at one given point in space. This was decidedly that point.</p><p>          "You're Carole, right?" the blue-eyed one batted her lashes and swayed as her hand glided into her coat pocket. Her flaxen curls fluttered in the cold wind and she took the fag between two fingers before tucking a loose tendril behind her ear.</p><p>          The other girl glanced down an instant and the corners of her mouth slightly curled up out of courtesy, but she did not force a smile. "I go by Letty."</p><p>          The blonde woman raised her eyebrows and she nodded obligingly. "Letty--is that your middle name?"</p><p>          Her hands were growing dry from the frosty air. She shrugged as she set down her remaining luggage and tucked her hands into her pockets, "Loretta."</p><p>          "Simone," the girl gestured to herself, grinning sincerely. She placed her cigarette back between her teeth and fiddled around in her pocket. "Want a smoke?"</p><p>          Letty whispered a near silent 'yeah' as Simone held the open pack at her chest. She plucked one out and mirrored the blonde, leaning in for a light. In the momentary silence that naturally ensued, a burst of shouts erupted from beyond the walls, provoking her to shoot a concerned and somewhat self-conscious glance in Simone's direction.</p><p>          "Don't worry," she murmured, pivoting to lean forward on the railing with her elbows, "only Dodd doesn't want you here."</p><p>          Letty's mouth opened as if to say something, but she found herself at a loss for words, simply leaking out an unintelligible stutter. Simone looked surprised at herself, shaking her head with her tongue poking through her cheek.</p><p>          "Sorry. Shouldn't have mentioned that. He just--" she exhaled, freeing a dirty plume of smoke from her lungs-- "doesn't want anymore girls in the house. He's a chauvinist pig."</p><p>          Letty's eyes fell to the snow crusted ground beneath her toes abashedly. She glimpsed up over the dark horizon and peered beyond the shadows of trees in search of any stars. Only two, she counted.</p><p>          But Simone went on. "So I hear you're from Wisconsin, then?"</p><p>          "Yeah, Oshkosh," she replied, her attention still fixed on the sky as she observed the emergence of a third star.</p><p>          "That's up by Green Bay, right?" Letty barely had time to nod before she resumed, "I've been there. Went to Lake Michigan for Girl Scouts when I was a kid." Simone took a drag off her cigarette and tilted her head. "Didn't stay doin' that for long. That or 4H, you ever do that?"</p><p> Letty blinked at the discernment that she was being asked a question and strode backwards a few steps, turning around to bend down for one of the suitcases. She shook her head. Simone continued. "Yeah. I quit 'em both, soon as I hit junior high," she shrugged, following the path she had caught onto of the new girl's stare into space, "on account of, you know--"</p><p>          Loretta was suddenly struck again with the same pain, this time to the center of her forehead. She staggered back, catching the arm of a rocking chair to stabilize herself. A towering figure charged past them with a palpable fury, undeniably alpha male. The man did not look back as he marched off the patio and ripped open the door to a tan Imperial, stuffing himself inside. The young women looked at one another as the engine growled and the car peeled out of the yard recklessly, back tires skidding across the ice. Rubbing her head to ease the ache of the clearly red mark on her skin, Letty watched him curiously.</p><p>          "See what I mean?" Simone sighed and pushed herself off the railing. "Asshole."</p><p>          She swooped in to pick up one of Letty's bags and urged her inside, flicking her cigarette to the frozen ground in the process.</p><p>          It was a relief to step into the heat. Generations of photographs lined the walls; a lit Christmas tree in the great room lingered two weeks late. Loretta's eyes took a moment to adjust to the color change down the warm yellow hallway and they turned into the kitchen, where several faces turned to dolefully greet her. One in particular softened so pitifully in foregone recognition that she caught a sense of worry in knowing she did not return the feeling.</p><p>          "Oh dear."</p><p>          Floyd straightened her back and rose from the table, rushing to wrap her arms around Letty's small shoulders. She shut her eyes in commiseration, only releasing the girl to hold her at arms' length and smile sadly. She then turned her head towards the men at the table, but her eyes rested on the tile floor.</p><p>          "Could you get her bags, please?"</p><p>          Two men responded at once, each offering a nod of consolation to the young lady as they ambled past her and up the old staircase.</p><p>          Facing her once again, the older woman freed her gentle grip on Letty's arms. "Rye's got someone in the guest room--needed to lay low for a few days," Floyd uttered. "Until then, you'll have to room with Simone."</p><p>          Letty shot an unsure glance at the blonde girl, who responded with a cordial nod of endorsement. She could not articulate what emotion to convey as she was perturbed simply discerning what emotions prevailed, or even existed at this point in time. All she was able to provide was a humble but shy <em>'thank you'</em> and not much else.</p><p>          Floyd bestowed on her a careful pat to her shoulder and spoke, "go get yourself some sleep. I'll bring some breakfast up in the morning."</p><p>          Letty nodded gratefully and followed after Simone as they headed for the stairs. Floyd took a hearty breath as she stared at the laminate below her feet. "Carole," she called out, the girl's eyes meeting hers as she swiveled back in acknowledgement.</p><p>          "Whatever Dodd has said--or <em>will</em> say--to you," she assured, hands at her side and conviction in her voice, "don't you pay him any mind. Do you understand?"</p><p>          "Yes, ma'am," Letty replied respectfully and turned back around at the woman's approval.</p><p>          Halfway up the stairs is when she realized. Scurrying back down, she turned a sharp corner, hanging onto the kitchen door frame as she ground to a halt.</p><p>          "Mrs. Gerhardt?"</p><p>          Floyd, having sat back down at the dining table, looked up from where her hands were clasped together warily.</p><p>          "I prefer my middle name."</p><p>           The older woman shut her eyes and nodded, waving a hand apologetically. "Of course, I'm sorry." She interlocked her fingers once more. "Goodnight, Loretta."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. ii. salt of the earth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i said i would post every other sunday but i couldn't wait so surprise!!! it's early</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>[ ii . i ]</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>           Misery was plastered on her face as she drifted out of the car. Her eyes stung hot red and she sniveled, the cold air exacerbating her runny nose. She swallowed. With each step onto the porch her stomach grew tighter for fear of seeing her mother’s agony. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>           If Loretta could loathe herself so immensely for not seeing it, she could not feign imagining how Mother felt. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>           Her twisted reflection appeared in the doorknob. The swollen eyes and puffy lip that stared back filled her with disgust. She tore the door open aggressively and right away was hit with a smell so pungent she halted in her tracks. Her blood ran cold. The gas traveled through  her spine and exited as a hopeless tremble: </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>           “Mommy?” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>           Letty took a weary step forward. The echo of her shoe soles against the ground permeated throughout the silent house. Down the hall she wandered, following the light of any one lamp coming from the kitchen. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>           “Mommy?” This time she whispered, wringing her hands anxiously. The skin felt cool, hardly alive. She crept past the corner into the kitchen and wished she hadn’t. </em>
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</p><p>          “Ma.”</p><p> </p><p>The distant call of a man’s voice roused her from the slumber. As her eyes drifted open there appeared Floyd at the edge of the mattress, holding a small plate of two breakfast sausages and a brittle slice of toasted bread. Letty glanced out of the open bedroom door for the source of the voice, but the older woman’s warm hand pressed to her cheek then distracted her. She quickly moved her palm to the young woman’s forehead unconsciously, as if to check for a fever.</p><p>          She took her hand away. “You sleep alright, darlin’?”</p><p>          Letty nodded as she propped herself up on her arms and leaned her back against the headboard. The other side of the bed was cold. She promptly pointed to it with her thumb.</p><p>          “Where’s--?”</p><p>          “She’s driving Charlie to school,” Floyd assured, insisting the girl accept her plate. “She’ll be back in a few minutes.”</p><p> </p><p>          Letty brought her knees up under the teal duvet and balanced her breakfast on this makeshift table. Floyd looked at the panels of hardwood beneath them and crossed her legs.</p><p>          “I know it’s still fresh, but we need to go over the will.” A sausage wiggled around the plate as Letty sawed off a small piece of it with the side of her fork. She glanced up. “I’ll have one of my boys go to city hall and talk to the judge. Maybe we can--”</p><p>          “--Ma.”</p><p>Both women turned their heads to the doorway. A man stood occupying the entry, burly and powerful, and Letty knew forthwith he was the same man who had struck her with the front door the previous night.</p><p> </p><p>          “Been lookin’ all over this damn place. Some fella on the phone wants to talk to you.”</p><p> </p><p>Floyd exhaled deeply as she pivoted back around to finish speaking to the girl, whom he had never laid eyes on until this moment:</p><p> </p><p>          “--Maybe we can arrange to have your things sent here, that way we can work this out...away from it all.”</p><p> </p><p>To say he was mesmerized would be a shocking understatement. That face--it had been so long since he’d remembered it. As his mother’s voice drifted to the underside of his mind, he felt the innocence of the child that had been; it was a fracture in the ego.</p><p> </p><p>          “Now,” Floyd turned to face her son once more. “Did they give a name?”</p><p> </p><p>Sweeping over him, a chaste recollection of being ten years old--to the first moment a woman had ever drawn a rush of blood to his cheeks. His introspection hastily turned to something tremendously dirty as she observed his blatant gawking and shot him a glance of awareness with her catty eyes.</p><p> </p><p>The blood rushed further down.</p><p> </p><p>          “Son.”</p><p>Dodd shifted his attention to his mother with a steady blink.</p><p>          She shrugged insistently. “Well? Who is it?”</p><p> </p><p>          “Some fella named Bybel,” he replied promptly, keeping his gaze averted as if the girl did not exist.</p><p> </p><p>The two women looked at each other, both sufficiently filled with unease at the name’s mention.</p><p>          “Cary?” Floyd questioned her son, expressing a different wavelength of concern than was emitting from the girl.</p><p>          “Nah, Wilbur.”</p><p> </p><p>The older woman placed a comforting hand on Letty’s forearm, urging her to be patient as she rose expeditiously from the bed’s edge and maneuvered past Dodd into the long stretch of the corridor.</p><p> </p><p>But the man remained, eyeing the young lady as she picked at the crust of her bread tentatively, avoiding his gaze. His hands rested at his hips and he squinted, reading her elegant features with both desire and disdain. Overwhelmed by the uncertainty of his presence, she finally looked up inquiringly and Dodd fell weak in the knees. Though he was confident she could not discern it, he was humiliated nonetheless by the emergence of his perceived vulnerability and spun around to march after Floyd.</p><p>
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</p><p>[ ii . ii ]</p><p> </p><p>          The sound of Simone’s voice had become incomprehensible background noise as she twittered on about things that happened in the past; friends she used to have and boys she used to mess around with. Letty stared out of the windshield in a trance, her heart racing as a memory taunted her vision, impossible to shake. She caught a shaky breath at the sensation of a hand resting on her arm.</p><p>          “You okay?” Simone tilted her head earnestly, blue eyes bright and candid behind her curtain bangs as she began to slow before the approaching red light. Letty did not hesitate.</p><p>          “My dad’s dead.”</p><p> </p><p>Simone’s foot tapped the brake and the car lurched to a sudden halt. Her lips parted but she could not find the proper words to help. She stuttered, “oh...I’m--”</p><p>          “It’s okay,” Letty panned, still eyeballing the snow encrusted road in front of them.</p><p>          Simone scanned the other girl cautiously. “Do you wanna talk about it?”</p><p>Letty simply looked at the dashboard and then down to her feet, shaking her head decidedly. The light now green, her head jerked back as Simone stepped on the gas.</p><p>          “If I could trade places with you,” the blonde brooded, thereafter reaching out to defend the statement, “for your sake, I mean.”</p><p>          “It’s fine,” she reiterated, a finger stroking behind her ear in obvious regret of bringing attention to the subject to begin with. Suddenly the car fell quiet, the low radio volume emerging beneath the rhythmic clicking of the turn signal.</p><p>
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</p><p>[ ii . iii ]</p><p> </p><p>          The sedan rocked forward as Simone shifted into park, a sludge of half-melted snow, oil, and black dirt sloshing under the tires. She twisted behind her seat and reached for her purse from the back of the car. Letty looked up at the building heedfully. A man in overalls stood on his toes halfway up a ladder, yanking down a string of Christmas lights from where they dangled above the entryway. A tall and dark woman with an exposed midriff exited the building and dug around in her bag for a cigarette, her afro set high enough to snag the foot-long icicles drooping down from the awning.</p><p>          Simone propped the driver’s side door open with her foot and grinned. “You coming in?”</p><p>Letty nodded and crawled out, her suede kitten heels sinking into the slush of glacial street muck on the pavement.</p><p> </p><p>Tall and slender, the hallways presented an illusion of confinement resulting from the stuffy air and dimly lit wooden floors, worn as they were. Discordant beats of music boomed through the thin drywall and the pungent smells of freshly-smoked tobacco and pot drifted by in alternating waves. Letty floated behind the blonde sheepishly, eyes involuntarily descending to the other girl’s rump every few seconds. She was certain Simone must have been aware of the quality of her own goods, on account of how tightly her star-pocketed jeans were stretched across her behind. She knocked cheerfully below the golden numbers tacked onto the entrance and turned to Letty, an exuberant smile crossing her face.</p><p>          The door wrenched open suddenly, a wide-eyed young man fanned out behind it. “Oh, hey!”</p><p>       His gaze shifted to Letty, whom he gave a flirtatious nod before leaning his arm against the doorway whistling, “he-<em> llo </em>. Rye Gerhardt.”</p><p>          “Back off, you gimp,” Simone scoffed, thwacking his sternum with her purse to force him out of her path. “Got our weed?”</p><p>          “Hell yeah, I got your weed,” he joyfully responded, his back turned as he stuffed a Playboy magazine between the back of his couch and the seat cushion. He turned to face the women in the entryway and his mustache twitched. He threw his hands up incredulously, “wh--close the door, will you?!”</p><p>          Letty pressed her back to it and let her weight do the work. It clicked shut behind her as Rye sifted through a hoard of half-eaten food and empty beer cans on his coffee table. “You gonna introduce me to your friend?” he implored Simone, cursing to himself after knocking a piece of old hamburger to the ground, littering the carpet with wilted shreds of lettuce. She looked doubtfully to the other girl for permission, who then clasped her hands behind her back.</p><p>          “I’m Letty,” she declared and stuck out one foot to rock inattentively on the heel of her shoe. “Our...moms knew each other.”</p><p>          Rye half glanced back in acknowledgement before darting to his desk, where he slid around a mass of cluttered paperwork and bills.</p><p>          “She’s gonna be stayin’ at the house for a while,” Simone stated as she leisurely made her way towards the apartment’s kitchen.</p><p>          “Oh, yeah?” He began to tug open desk drawers, sending a short chain of condoms flying out onto the floor. The girls looked at one another and stifled their laughter, pointing their heads to the ground. “How’s that work with…”</p><p>          He spun around, baffled with his hands at his hips. He stroked his mustache nervously and made way for the couch.</p><p>          Simone squatted down and calmly opened a kitchen cabinet. “My room for now,” she said, “at least till he skips town.”</p><p>          As neurotic as Rye had made himself known, the deconstruction of the couch that ensued did not present as unusual. He flung the cushion off haphazardly, revealing nothing but a forgotten dime bag of cocaine and clumps of food crumbs.</p><p>          Simone raised her eyebrows. “Looking for something?”</p><p>          Rye’s head twirled around and he staggered back before catching a glimpse of the bag of pot in her hand.</p><p> </p><p>          “Oh.”</p><p> </p><p>          The blonde stuffed it in her purse and began a cocky stride toward Letty, who reached for the knob accordingly.</p><p>          “--Uh, so how’s business going?” a desperate Rye blurted, making his own moves for the door. Simone turned her head impatiently. “Is Dodd--”</p><p>          “He’s a crumb,” she quipped, already halfway out of the apartment; she swung her bag over her shoulder. “See you, Rye.”</p><p> </p><p>          The brunette bid him goodbye with a friendly door to the face.</p><p>
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</p><p>[ ii . iv ]</p><p> </p><p>          A beam of light flashed through the kitchen window, catching neither man’s attention. Otto crossed his arms obstinately, expecting his son to mirror the gesture from where he stood opposite. Dodd simply leaned a strong arm against the island counter and plucked a grape from the bowl of fruit between them.</p><p>          “I don’t know what you’re sayin’ to me right now,” Otto grumbled, pertinacious as ever. </p><p>          “Pop, it’s the kid,” he blinked slowly as he chewed, “I’m tellin’ you. He’s gotta be squirrelin’ it away somewhere…”</p><p>          He trailed off as his voice was outmatched by female giggles, the sound of their heels clicking inharmoniously at the front door causing him to roll his eyes and turn to face the hall. The thump of heavy fabric hitting the ground went unanswered as the two women spoke in gleeful murmurs.</p><p>          “Hey,” he demanded, watching them shamble toward the staircase snickering. Unnoticed, he shouted again to no avail. The girls floated up to the second level without a care in the world and Dodd turned to his father with a rather appalled look on his face.</p><p>          “What did I tell you?” he wauled, taking a step back from the island in disbelief. “These goddamn women.” Otto, his arms still folded tightly, shrugged at the incident as if to nudge his son back on topic, but he resumed, “come on, Pop, that girl shouldn’t even be here and you know it.”</p><p>“Dodd, we’ve had this conversation already,” he uttered, lips pulling into a tight line.</p><p>“How old is she, nineteen?” Dodd challenged bitterly, picking off another grape from the basket.</p><p>“Twenty.”</p><p>“You’re tellin’ me a twenty-year-old fuckin’ kid can’t take care of themselves?” his father’s brow furrowed unwittingly at the language. “You and Ma would know better than anyone else.”</p><p>Otto stared up at the ceiling as he exhaled. “It’s temporary.”</p><p>“Really, think about it,” Dodd implored haughtily. “Why’re we makin’ it our problem that her daddy diddles kids?”</p><p>A cough from the entryway seized the men’s attention and Dodd found himself staring into the eyes of a very stoic Letty, who clutched the butter yellow coat she’d been wearing earlier in the day. They stood within each other’s sights for no longer than a few short seconds before she twirled around and hastened toward the staircase.</p><p>He tilted his head to the floor with his tongue in his cheek, nodding passively as Otto threw his hands in the air.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. iii. hot rush of blood</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>[ iii . i ]</p><p>          The tip of his tongue was pinched between his teeth in agitation; the sound of his knuckles cracking one by one filled the room as he tightened his jaw. Dodd lay staring up at the ceiling as the pestilent sound of women babbling filled his black heart with a bitterness he was quite familiar with. He turned against his pillow in time to watch the minute flip to 12:52 in the moonlight that leaked in from the clear night sky.</p><p> </p><p>NOVEMBER 1949</p><p>12:53 AM</p><p>           It was not the metallic click of the door latch that awoke the boy, nor was it the dull sets of footsteps that followed. It was the hissing of hushed voices that stirred him to sit up--peeling the blanket off his small legs--and sent him pattering down the stairs curiously. A square of light cast onto the wooden floor of the family room and he followed it down the hall. His little fingers clutched the edge of the kitchen door as he attempted to conceal himself in its shadow.</p><p>          Though the boy could recognize a few figures in the room, two foreign bodies in high-belted skirts caught his attention as his mother spoke to the taller of them gently.</p><p>          "...Das ist Elron und Otto," she whispered almost unintelligibly, gesturing to the men who smiled in return. His father smiled and courteously bowed, uttering a greeting of welcome to them both, which made the boy crane further into the room to hear. It was at this time his mother noticed his head peeping through the crack in the entryway and conducted the room's attention to him.</p><p>          "Ah! Und das ist mein jungster, Dodd."</p><p>She motioned for him to enter the stage. Shyly did he do so as the two women rotated to face him and an unfamiliar bloom formed in the little boy's chest.</p><p>          The girl was sixteen, though in his baby-faced naivety he could not tell thirteen from sixteen and likewise sixteen from twenty. Her dark curls were pulled to the back of her head in a pink ribbon and her eyes glittered green as she smiled at him. He was certain he had never seen anything like her before, something from the cover of one of those girl's magazines they had in the shops. He could not have prepared himself for such a sight and thought he may hurl from the newfound sensation.</p><p>          And as she turned away to his older brother he felt as if the floor beneath his feet had turned to dust.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>[ iii . ii ]</p><p>          The sky at dawn was something more easily felt than seen, Letty believed. It either felt of excitement or dread or hunger or numbness. It felt cold, which she undoubtedly was. Her fingers gripped the curve of a coffee mug for warmth as she tucked a foot underneath herself and leaned over the side of the table, peering down at grocery coupons stacked down the border of the weekly paper. Mindlessly did she run her finger down the edge of the page and inhaled sharply at the sting of a consequential papercut. She held it up to her face, inquisitively watching the slice go from pink to red as a trace of blood seeped out from the fragile skin. She shut one eye and pinched the wound between the nails of her free hand, forcing a bead of blood to form on her fingertip. The shuffling of approaching feet caused her to look over her shoulder and there she found Floyd Gerhardt striding into the doorway, a pair of fuzzy white slippers offsetting her sage three-piece pajama set.</p><p>           "Good morning," the older woman announced, robe trailing behind her as she paced toward the coffee pot on the counter.</p><p>The girl echoed, "morning," and arched her back against the chair to stretch her arms over the table. Her shoulder popped. Floyd pulled out a chair next to her at the table and lowered into it, both hands on her coffee mug.</p><p>          "How are you doing?"</p><p>She scanned Letty up and down observantly, pursing her lips discreetly as the girl nodded.</p><p>          "I'm alright, thank you," she tucked her bleeding hand under the table as she replied and straightened her posture. Though she examined Letty thoroughly--the steadiness of her breath, the dark crescents under her half-lidded eyes, the unconscious attempt at a courteous smile--for the life of her, Floyd could not get a fractionally decent read on the girl.</p><p>          She recounted the year 1962, the winter Inge fell dead to pneumonia--the families hadn't been in touch for some time, but Floyd had insisted Otto and her remaining sons pay their respects to the old woman. A two-year-old Simone was propped at Dodd's waist and pointed upon finding the other little girl in the snow: a shy child peering out from behind her father's leg, staring apprehensively through a thin curtain of dark hair. He had urged her forward to socialize with the other toddler as her young mother cried onto Floyd's shoulder quietly, and finally, with a sigh of impatience, her father hoisted her up to Simone's level. The younger of the two children greeted the other with a clumsy wave of her pudgy hand and a smile, her small tongue making a surprise appearance in the gap where her milk teeth grew at an angle. Cary looked at his own child expectantly, who gave the strangers a stony-faced stare.</p><p>           "Go on," he encouraged softly, "what's your name?."</p><p>Her head plopped onto his shoulder in surrender, burying her face into his scarf.</p><p>          Floyd had no trouble believing that child was the same one who sat before her seventeen years later, an impenetrable mask of ambiguity glued to the soft skin of her face. It gave the older woman no frustration, however, and with intent to speak only to whatever spirit inhabited her, she reached out and touched the girl's hand gingerly.</p><p>          "Loretta." The dark-haired girl faced her, raising an eyebrow. Floyd pressed her lips together and inhaled. "This kind of thing won't just disappear. I have loved and lost more than I could've imagined in my worst dreams, I know...tragedy," she paused, gazing down aimlessly at the tabletop, "better than the back of my hand. That hole inside of you will only grow deeper the longer it festers. We <em>need</em> to grieve. It's the only thing that gets us through."</p><p>           Though Letty did not hail this declaration with either agreement or opposition, she did tilt her head in the same way a kitten might after being whistled at. Her eyes had pensively fallen to the table as well, reflecting back the same glazed oak color. She then looked at Floyd, her lips parted as if something wanted out. A second was all it lasted until she closed her jaw and looked back at the table.</p><p>Floyd uttered, "when you're ready, I'll be here," and placed a comforting hand at the girl's shoulder before she adjourned.</p><p>Alone again, Letty steered her hand out of her lap and picked the crumb of dried blood from her finger, reopening the cut as her leg bounced restlessly under the table.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>[ iii . iii ]</p><p>           The crest of tangled hair grew on her head, a black tumbleweed she wore proudly as a crown. Brittle as it was, Letty asphyxiated the top of her head with another misting of hairspray and coughed as it entered her lungs unexpectedly. Simone did not cease her chattering at the sound, some unfamiliar gossip spilling from her lips as she crossed her arms in front of her body and peeled off her sleeveless top brazenly. Letty froze mid brush stroke and leered in the mirror, eyeing surreptitiously the other girl's bare bosom as it was freed from it's linen confine and yielded to the clutches of gravity. Her breasts were just as Letty had imagined them, somewhat small in respect to the standard but not so much in distinction from her own. They were perky and conoid, appearing especially so as she leaned down to remove her jeans, a wide valley down the center of the rib cage beckoning her gaze to the sternum. Letty averted her eyes from the glass with caution to herself as the blonde continued to prattle, casting over her head an altered old prairie dress of which the ribbon in the back was longer than the skirt's hem. She continued to smooth down the tall bouffant on her head, staring herself in the eyes and feigning nonchalance at what had just transpired.</p><p>          "Ugh, I need a beer," Simone lamented as she gracefully maneuvered her hands behind her back to tie off the ribbon into a neat, albeit upside-down bow. "You ready?"</p><p>Letty glanced up and nodded, expressionless, and the two reflections locked eyes in the mirror as she encircled her stiff scalp with a final halo of styling spray.</p><p>          And so the duet descended the staircase to join the procession of Gerhardts gathered around the dining table and found their place next to one another towards the south end of the table. As Letty eased down across from Charlie, he told her, amicably:</p><p>          "That's a cool dress, Letty."</p><p>She glimpsed down momentarily at an outdated yellow shift, a ruffle of lace framing the pearl buttons that ran down the center.</p><p>          "Thanks. It was my mom's," she quietly informed, drawing an audible sigh of aggravation from the man sandwiched between the two at the foot of the table. Though he was aware both were looking his way, Dodd's attention seemingly remained fixed at his opposite end: the seat his father was to sink into momentarily.</p><p>          As Simone's eyes drifted over the empty chair across from her, its soon-to-be occupant lumbered into the dining room with a heavy platter of lamb beside his mother who likewise carried glossy rolls of bread on a large ceramic plate, both careening down on either side of the table to bestow their respective gifts.</p><p>           Otto, ascending the dark stairs from the kitchen's wine cellar with a bottle of merlot in his right hand called out to the family's new addition: "Want any, Carole?", to which his wife and two grandchildren promptly granted a variety of corrections to the name.</p><p>          "Right, I'm sorry," he grumbled, twisting the cork out of the bottle's neck with a pop. He motioned it to the girl and raised his eyebrows in reiteration; she looked near startled a moment before responding with a quick nod.</p><p>          Dodd had never taken particular preference to wine; it was a ladies' drink, he surmised. Despite this, he did not decline the offer in the manner he typically would as his father made the rounds--his attention had traveled elsewhere. By this point the eldest of the brothers had leaned forward onto the tabletop with one elbow, squinting at the girl almost distrustfully, though he was not yet sure what for.</p><p>As Otto fell into place at the table's head and completed the ellipse, Floyd cleared her throat and in response each hand tucked into the next, forcing Letty's fingers to slip tentatively into Dodd's.</p><p>          "Lord--" the matriarch began, inducing a collective episode of silent eye-shutting. Though disenthralled from the meaning of the words, Letty stared into her lap out of courtesy.</p><p>          "--We are grateful for the food you have set before us. We ask that you bless this house and continue to lead our family along your path."</p><p>Dodd pried his eyes open apathetically, though he kept his head down for integrity's sake.</p><p>          She was aware he was looking her way; that much was clear by the way her cheeks burned red and she stared up through her lashes at her wine to distract herself, her gaze darting from the glass to the corner of the table just past him like a wild animal hesitant to look its enemy in the eyes. Her diffidence was almost too much to handle and Dodd's grip tightened on the girl's fingers in such a way it may have gone unnoticed had he not been twisting the delicate joints. He was unsure of why it was he did so, but it certainly got her attention. Letty finally tilted her head in his direction questioningly, the bubble flip of her hair gliding off her shoulder and bouncing gracefully before her collarbone. His nostrils flared like a bull as he watched the color drain from her face.</p><p>          "We thank you for the opportunity to take Loretta under our care, and we pray for her and for her family in these trying times."</p><p>Subconsciously his eye twitched; his jaw clenched. She looked back down to her lap in submission and, smugly, the corner of Dodd's lip twitched as he finally paid heed to his mother, who then concluded.</p><p>           "Please be with them and guide them to a better place. In the name of Jesus we pray, amen."</p><p>Letty abruptly tore her hand away before the room could echo the prayer.</p><p> </p>
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